Fade Into Nothing
by ClassicDreamer
Summary: A Techno prisoner's mind is wiped clean of everything he ever knew or loved. Then he is thrown out into the world, lost and alone. Can he regain his memories? Will he make new ones? Will he ever remember...
1. Chapter 1

The room was cold and dark, devoid of any human touches. How long he had been here, he had no idea. It seemed like years. There were no windows here. The pleasures of feeling the sun on his face or looking up into the moonlight were long forgotten. The only reality in this world he lived in now was the sterile steel walls of his cell.

Who his captives were, he wasn't sure. He had heard snatches of conversation, but nothing more. Some of them wore face masks made of metal bits and their clothing was plain black lycra. The T on their foreheads was obviously the mark of their tribe, but what it stood for, the captive had no idea. His own tribe mark was faded and barely visible on the back of his hand. The pentagram…

His memories were very weak now, many of them lost in the tortures and experiments he had been put through. But during the long, silent lonely hours one memory remained…a girl…blond, with zulu knots in her hair. She was beautiful and strong, a born leader…and she was his love. This he knew still, he felt it in his heart. He held tight to that memory. They had not yet been able to take it from him, but he knew that they were not done with him, they would try again.

And then what would become of him? What would happen when that last bit of his soul was taken from him? Would he cease to exist? He could not even remember his own name anymore.

Footsteps, the heavy footsteps of the boots they wore, coming toward his prison. They were coming for him again. He stood up slowly, his lean frame facing the door in a manner of defiance. Letting them know that even without his memories, without his sense of self, they had not yet broken him.

Two guards entered the room and moved toward him. Grabbing him by the arms, they drug him from the room and down a long hallway toward the control room.

"Here's the virt, sir," One of the guards said in a cold manner, as if he were no more than a piece of meat.

"Good, good. Place the device on him and then set the power to 8," the commander said, nodding his head in a pleased manner.

The guards sat him down in a chair and strapped him in. The device they had spoken of was a helmet that they had used on him before.

As he sat there waiting for his captures to flip the switch he held the image of the girl in his mind. He must not let them take her from him. She was all that kept him sane.

Then he heard the click and lights began to flash before his eyes. Images swam in his mind. Faces he didn't know, voices he couldn't place, places he'd never been. Where was he? Who was he? Who was she? The girl's face appeared before him once again…he focused on it as hard as he could. Suddenly a sharp pain pierced his skull. He cried out and gripped the arms of the chair. The image began to fade…slowly…it became nothingness.

The guards pulled the helmet off and freed him from the chair then looked expectantly at their commander.

"No need to keep this one any longer, he's useless to us now. His mind's a complete blank. You can let him go."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

The Techno guards threw him out into the street without any explanation or word. He was simply lost and alone in a world he no longer remembered. As he wandered the unfamiliar landscape and waited for night to fall he tried to remember who he was, where he was, anything. But nothing came.

He didn't think he was in the city, though how he knew that he wasn't sure. The landscape looked more rural, with occasional houses, but little traffic or activity. No one seemed to know him, or took any notice of him at all.

As night began to fall he began to worry. He knew he must have a home somewhere, he felt as if he should be trying to get back to someone…but who he couldn't recall. At last he curled into a ball on the ground and slept away the remainder of the night, waiting for the morning and the sun that would hopefully bring clarity and recognition.

"Hey, Mister…Hey…Wake up…" As he opened his eyes he spotted a young boy standing over him. "Hey mister, you lost?" the boy asked cryptically.

He though for a moment and decided that yes, lost was definitely a word the fit him and so he nodded his head, not yet trusting himself to speak.

"You eat yet?" the boy asked.

He shook his head no.

"What's the matter don't you talk?"

He shrugged his shoulders in response. At this point he wasn't sure food was worth all the questions he would have to endure. He was sure that he could speak, but he couldn't remember what his own voice sounded like. Somehow he was certain that he hadn't spoken to another person in a long time.

The boy simply gave him a strange look and shrugged in return, "Well, if you want breakfast you can follow me; we've got plenty to share with a traveler, if that's what you are. Come on…"

Slowly he got to his feet, feeling stiff and sore after the night on the hard ground. The boy was already walking down a path towards what looked to be a jumble of buildings in the distance. As they got closer he realized that it was a small town. The boy led him down a small main street with storefronts that were mostly boarded up or abandoned. Half way down the boy opened a door to a storefront that was labeled "Diner" and led the way inside.

"Patrick, what are you doing here? I thought I told you to go out to the farmhouse and milk the cows and gather eggs."

"I didn't make it there," the boy who must be Patrick responded, "I found him laying on the ground along the path."

"Oh, so now you're picking up strays," the girl said with a long-suffering sigh. "And who might you be sir?" she queried.

All he could do was stare at her. Try as he might he could not find a response to her question.

"Well," she prompted, "Speak up or be off."

He looked at her again, suddenly an image of a girl with zulu knots in her hair came into his mind…He shook his head. What was happening here? Who was he?

"I don't think he talks," the boy supplied.

"Don't be silly," the girl scoffed.

"I don't know…" came a soft, hoarse croak of a voice.

"What?" the girl said as she swung back to face him.

"I don't know," he tried again, his voice coming out a bit clearer this time.

"You don't know what?" The girl questioned hesitantly.

"Who I am…" came his reply.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

No memory of who he was…was he telling the truth? The girl stared hard at the stranger standing in the middle of her diner. He was tall and lean with long brown hair that looked like it hadn't seen a brush in a while. Could he be a wanderer, a homeless man without a tribe? Or maybe he had been a prisoner.

She thought about the Techno compound not far from town. It had always felt like a bad omen. Fear had swept through their little community when they had realized that the Technos were stationed so close, but all she could do was pray that they would stay away from town and would content themselves with their battle for power in the city. So far it had worked and she had remained blissfully ignorant of the damage that the Technos were capable of. But here stood the proof before her.

"Kara, can we keep him?" Patrick said, breaking into her thoughts and speaking of the grown man standing before her as if he were a stray dog.

Turning toward her little brother Kara replied, "We can't keep him, Patrick; he's not a pet. This man's free to go his own way whenever he wishes." She turned back to the stranger and gave him another assessing look then made her decision. "Do you want to stay here with us for a bit?" she asked him cautiously.

Stay…could he stay? Did he have somewhere to be? Was someone looking for him?

He blinked a few times and shook his head trying to clear his thoughts then looked back up into the girl's eyes. He was lost…he had no idea who he was, where he was going, or how to get there. Maybe…just maybe…he might be able to find his way again. But he had a feeling he wouldn't find it on his own. Wandering the country side and sleeping in the wild would not help him improve his memory. But maybe here, with some semblance of normalcy…with help…he might be able to remember.

"Do you want to stay?" she asked again when the silence had stretched between them for too long.

He swallowed heavily and nodded…ever so slightly.

"Is that a yes?" she asked, intent on making him say the word.

"Yes," he managed to get out hoarsly, "I'll stay for a bit."

"Good then," Kara said, wiping her hands on her apron, "let's get you some breakfast."

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"And this is Bilbo, he's a frog. And Timmer, he's my turtle. Felix is my cat, he's usually hiding upstairs under the bed. My lizard's name is Sammy. And this is Zoot, he's my dog," Patrick said pointing at a mut with scraggly brown hair and large floppy ears.

"Zoot," he repeated the name softly, as if testing it out to see if it fit. It sounded familiar. "Why do you call him that? It's a strange name," he asked the boy curiously.

"I saw a picture of him once…Zoot, he was a tribe leader in the city. I named my dog after him because his hair looked just like that," he said pointing down at the wild brown fur that seemed to be matted and going in all directions.

"Get that dog out of here, Patrick," Kara yelled from the other side of the diner.

"But he's hungry too," came a whined reply.

"I don't care. He can eat outside. Come on, out he goes," she said, shooing both boy and dog out the door with a motion of her hand.

Zoot…his mind raced, searched, trying to come up with a memory. There had to be something there. The name was too familiar. A tribe leader...what else had Patrick said? The city…Zoot…the city…the tribe…Unconsciously he looked down at his hand. There was the old marking, just barely visible. But what did it mean?

"So," Kara's voice interrupted his thoughts, "What should we call you?"

"What?" he said, looking at her in confusion.

"Well, you've heard my brother's pet names. Have you decided on a name for yourself?"

"I…I…don't…know…my name."

"I know that, but we really must have something to call you. I can't just keep referring to you as that man, or the stranger. You must have some kind of name," she reasoned. "So what should we call you?" she queried again.

"I have no idea," he said, letting out a long suffering sigh and dropping his head into his hands.

"Alright then, I'll just have to help you. Let's see, tell me if something sounds familiar. Robert…George…Carl…Sam…Trent…Stew…Mark…Bill…Fred…No, nothing, huh. Well, that's all of my male relatives, so I suppose we're going to have to wait till someone else shows up."

"I'm sorry," he said sadly.

"Hey, it's not you're fault. Maybe I shouldn't have sprung that on you so fast. We'll just make do until you're ready to have a name. No problem."

The roar of a motorcycle sounded outside, effectively finishing their conversation.

"Well, look who's back in town," Kara said cryptically as she walked to the door to greet their visitor.

"Kara, how are things in Paradise?" the man asked, shrugging out of his red leather jacket and setting his helmet on a nearby table.

"Not bad, Slade; though it's been a bit quiet since you left town," she replied.

"Never a dull moment when I'm around, huh," he said naughtily.

Kara seemed to suddenly remember that they were not alone and turned back to look at her nameless guest.

"Slade, what was your father's name?" she asked the newcomer, without taking her eyes from his.

Behind her Slade gave her a strange look, "Why would you ask that?"

"I'm just curious," she replied in an exasperated manner, "Just answer the question."

Slade sat down at the table and pulled out a menu, "Ray, my dad's name was Ray." He replied at last.

Ray…Ray…that did have a familiar ring to it. He nodded slightly in Kara's direction and then watched as a smile spread across her face.

"That's funny," she said as she turned back to take Slade's order, "that's my friends name…Slade meet Ray."

Well, he thought as he raised his hand in greeting, at least now he had a name.


End file.
